Beaten Down
by embracing-shadows
Summary: When Nick saves Greg from an abusive relationship, Greg moves in with him and all their hidden feelings fall in to place. My first fic! SLASH
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. But I wish I owned Greg!!

My first published fic, please play nicely and please let me know what you think. :)

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Nick stretched his arms above his head with a loud, long sigh of relief; glad that tonight's shift was over at last. Though no high profile or even difficult cases had come through, there had been a few pieces of evidence misplaced and some details were misinterpreted, making the team work double time to fix their mistakes. But the shift was winding down, ten minutes to go, and Nick could not wait to get home to his couch and fall asleep watching basketball reruns. He smiled to himself as he made his way over to the labs. Mia and Hodges were in the break room but there was Greg, where he always was, sitting with his white lab coat poring over some case evidence. Even on the slowest days Greg was busy with something, never fail. Nick couldn't see what kept him so busy but that was why he wasn't in the lab. That and it was likely he'd blow something up.

"Greg," Nick called his friend's attention as he walked around the glass walls in to the younger man's 'office'. He absently noticed the lack of loud rock music and shrugged. Maybe the guy had finally taken the hints from Catherine. Greg turned away from his microscope.

"Hey." He answered. Nick gave him a smile.

"Meeting in the break room, Catherine wants to talk about the birthday party she's throwing for Lindsey that we're all invited to," Nick said. Greg nodded and turned back to his microscope, looking in to the little eyepiece, scribbled a few notes, then packed up the file he was working on.

"Alright, let's rock and roll," he stated. Instead of jumping up and sauntering away like he usually did, though, he carefully eased himself off his high stool and slowly stood, a look of concentration on his face. When he walked out in to the hall his gait was noticeably off.

"Hey man, you're limping!" Nick worried. Greg flashed him an unconcerned grin and bravely hobbled on.

"Just a leg cramp," he brushed his friend's concern aside. "I need to get off that seat more often or I might become permanently attached." Nick eyed him but stayed silent. They reached the break room together, where Greg gave the same excuse to the others for his limp, and they all settled down to listen to Catherine threaten them with dire consequences if any one of them bought Lindsey a present related to science. But she went on to say 'open bar', and that perked them all up. Lindsey and her friends were all preteens, and alcohol was always needed for the adults to survive a whole night of their giggling and gossip. When she was done the members of the night shift drifted off to drive home one by one. Finally it was just Nick and Greg left, sipping coffee and chatting. Nick was reluctant to leave such good conversation, but his couch called and he was getting more tired by the minute. So he eventually stood and put his cup in the sink.

"I ought to be getting home to bed," he announced. Greg also stood, albeit slower, and nodded, a smile on his face like always. Nick could swear that he slept with a coat hanger in his mouth.

"Me too," he agreed. He began limping towards the doorway and Nick frowned at his leg before something caught his eye, a growing spot of red on the California man's beige pants, on the thigh.

"Greg, you're bleeding!" Nick felt a bit of panic rise in him, coupled with confusion. Greg tried to laugh in off as an evidence stain, but Greg Sanders did not spill evidence. He was just too experienced, too careful. Nick hurried over to him, helped by the fact that a man with a limp can't run very far very fast, and made him sit down. Ignoring Greg's protests he shoved up the bottom of the pant leg and found dried blood covering the calf as far as he could push the garment up. He stood up and gave Greg his most business-like stare, hands on hips.

"Take off your pants," he demanded. The Californian stared up at him like he was crazy and clutched his lab coat tighter around himself. "I mean it G," Nick warned. Greg glared at him and undid his belt, carefully lifting himself to slide the material out from under him, and kicked his slacks to the side, leaving him in blue boxers. Nick stared wide-eyed for a moment at the huge wound revealed to him. A gun shot! Dried blood ran all down the leg, telling Nick that it hadn't been cleaned since it had been inflicted, and the wound had started gushing anew, explaining the growing red stain.

"Greg what the hell happened?" Nick gasped as he rushed for the first aid kit under the sink. He got no answer, but when he looked over his friend's head was sunk to his chest. So instead of prying right now, he focused on filling a bowl with water and grabbing an old dishcloth. They were both silent as he cleaned the area, although Greg did scream once when Nick removed the bullet with a pair of tweezers. But neither said a word until after a protective double layer of gauze had been taped in place, and a plastic cover taped over that to keep it dry in the shower. When he was done and the first aid kit had been packed away Nick leaned against the break table and crossed his arms, staring at his friend with a thousand questions going through his head. Greg slowly got to his feet and smiled when he noticed that the pain was a bit better. He smiled again for Nick and made to leave.

"Uh-uh, no way cowboy, get back here," Nick called after him. "I want to know exactly what happened!" Greg slowed and looked back over his shoulder.

"It was an accident, let it go Nick," was all he said before hobbling off as fast as he could manage and disappearing down the hall that led to the parking lot. Nick shook his head, perplexed and sat down with his head in his hands. His couch no longer held so great of an appeal. Instead he looked at the blood all over the floor and the bullet he had carefully placed on the table with an idea slowly forming in his head. He was sure that the day's people wouldn't mind an extra hand hanging around. So he slipped some gloves out of his pocket – he _was_ a CSI after all – and carried his meager evidence to Greg's station, cracking his knuckles and settling in to the stool.

He had been right that the day's people didn't mind him at all. In fact he discovered that they left Greg's station alone when he wasn't there, none dared to enter it. It wasn't so much that they respected his personal work area, but that they never knew when he would appear. Apparently Greg put in more off the clock overtime than Nick had ever heard of. What in hell could keep him _that_ busy? Shaking his head, the brunette came back to earth as the printer/scanner to his right spewed out the results he had been waiting for. DNA found on the bullet was Greg's of course, having been in his leg, but after rinsing it of blood, a fingerprint had been dusted off it and run through the system. The bullet itself had also been run through the system and a positive had been found: the patterns matched those used in a self-defense case about fifteen years back. The gun belonged to a Victor Rhodes, who had a fingerprint on file that matched the one Nick had found. Satisfied, Nick packed up and left, waving to the people that had let him use Greg's station. He noticed one of them come up behind him and slide the door to the lab room shut as if Greg liked it that way.

The last known address on Rhodes' file brought Nick to a simple house about twenty minutes from the lab with a small yard and a fence with peeling paint. Although he wasn't on shift, Nick had worn his CSI jacket and clipped his identity badge on to his shirt pocket. A gun was hidden in the back of his jeans, just in case. No cars were in the dusty driveway but the double garage doors were closed. Nick locked his car and knocked on the white front door. There was an angry roar of 'answer the door!' and he heard at least six chains and bolts slide out before it opened and a blonde young man with his head down appeared.

"Yes?" the man asked in a quiet voice. Nick gaped at him.

"Greg?!" he exclaimed. Greg's head shot up and he looked at Nick with something akin to deadpan horror in his face. "What are you doing here?" Nick asked.

"I live here!" Greg shot back quietly with a touch of urgency in his voice.

"You live with the man who shot you?" Nick was shocked, to say the least. Greg's eyes went even wider and panic crept in to them.

"How did you know that?" his voice was strangled. Nick told him he had run it through the system and wanted to ask the man some questions, but Greg refused to let him in. "It was an accident Nicky, an accident. Go home." Greg was about to slam the door in Nick's face when a huge hand grabbed it and swung it open. Nick saw Greg begin to shake before he looked in to the most brutish faced he'd ever seen. His features weren't so much brutish; in fact he was quite beautiful with thick black hair and clear blue eyes. It was the malice behind his expression and the pointless anger in his eyes that made him look Neanderthal. He gave Nick an obvious once over.

"Who's this, Gregory?" he asked the young man he stood behind. Greg immediately lowered his head as if in deference.

"This is Nick. We work together," he answered in that quiet voice that Nick had never heard from him. Victor Rhodes grinned a beautiful yet feral grin.

"Well let's invite him in shall we?" he cooed, his words dripping honey. Nick had a very bad feeling about this man, even without considering the fact that he had shot his good friend in the thigh.

"Yes Victor," Nick was blown away by the meekness and subservience in Greg's voice. Nick stepped in to the house and found himself in a dark living room. The couch had an open bag of chips on it, the side table sported many empty beer cans, and the TV was playing football loudly. There didn't seem to be much light in the house, and Nick could see in to the kitchen, which was spotless. Everything was spotless except the place where it was obvious that that black haired man had been sitting on the couch.

Victor was smiling an oily smile at Nick when he suddenly turned and snarled at Greg, "Clean this mess up." Greg jumped a bit.

"Yes Victor," he agreed quietly and started picking up the cans, rolling up what was left of the chips, and turning down the TV. Nick was led to the couch, and Rhodes sat much too close to him for his comfort. Before he had a chance to ask about the bullet wound, the blonde came back in the room and sat on the edge of a large blue armchair. Victor's reaction was immediate. He flowed up off his seat with fury in his eyes.

"Who said you could sit down you faggot?" he demanded. Greg looked terrified as he scrambled up as fast as his leg would allow. Nick gaped at him while he stammered apologies. Victor strode over and, without a warning, struck Greg in the face, making him whirl to the floor in the middle of the room. The apologies kept coming, turning in to pleas for mercy when Victor stood over him menacingly. Nick was rooted to his seat by shock and horror.

"Victor please, not in front Nick!" Greg cried out. Victor grabbed the front of Greg's shirt at the throat and bodily dragged them face-to-face, shaking him violently.

"Oh, is this the one you've been pining after this whole time?" he growled. Greg whimpered in obvious fear, fighting back not even crossing his mind. Nick couldn't seem to gallivant himself in to action.

"Victor please," Greg pleaded again, earning him another violent shake, one that made his head crash in to his shoulder painfully.

"You're pathetic!" Victor yelled. "If it weren't for the sex, I'd leave you. And then where would you be, huh?" Nick felt his roots sink deeper at this new revelation. Greg was gay? He was…in a severely abusive relationship. "I asked you a question, where would you be!" he roared in to Greg's face.

"Lost without you," came a small whisper, as if he were simply repeating the lines of a play that he knew well. How often did this happen? Victor dragged Greg up in to the air and held him facing Nick, still riveted in place by horror. "He doesn't care about you Gregory. Look at him. You're just a faggot, and he has no use for faggots." Greg's eyes were scared and hopeless as they bored in to Nick's, apologizing, begging him to run. Finally the brunette snapped out of his state of shock. He slowly rose from his seat and pulled the gun out of the back of his jeans. The sound of it being cocked made Victor look up to find it pointed at his head. He was flabbergasted.

"Let the man go Mr. Rhodes," he stated as calmly as he could. Greg looked a little incredulous, as if he couldn't believe Nick was doing this for him. He wanted him to run, Nick knew, but how could he live with himself if he did that? And who knew what Rhodes would do once he was gone. The menace in question recovered quickly and pulled his blonde captive closer, using him as a body shield.

"Oh I don't think you'll shoot your friend," he sneered. Nick sneered back.

"No, but you left one thing open," he said. Rhodes had just enough time to realize he hadn't covered his head, and he had no gun himself before Nick squeezed the trigger, burying a bullet in his forehead. He stood for a few seconds until gravity caught up with him and he dropped Greg, falling sideways in to a heap. Nick leapt forward to catch his friend as he fell, landing on his bad leg and howling. He grabbed on to Greg's waist and held him upright, holding him close to his body to make sure he was truly all right. Greg looked up at him, still incredulous. Suddenly he was clinging to Nick for dear life and Nick clung just as desperately to him, relief flowing through both of them like a tsunami wave. The blonde couldn't stop shaking, couldn't stop the tears gathering in his eyes. He looked up at Nick and was surprised to find that there were tears in his eyes too. Greg then found himself swept up in to Nick's arms. He was carried out of the house without a word, put in Nick's car, and driven to the police station. Nick reported Victor, gave a full statement on what happened, and admitted that he had killed him in defense of his friend. So much happened so fast that when Greg was left alone in the waiting room he began hyperventilating so rapidly he passed out.

He woke up on a blue couch, wearing sweat pants that weren't his, and with his head in someone's lap. He was reluctant to move, due to his leg feeling better than it had in days, and someone's hand running through his hair in such a gentle way he didn't want to know if it was real or a dream. It had been so long since he had felt a touch that had been anything but demanding. When he did open his eyes he took in white walls, green trim, the scent of roast beef, and the sound of Just for Laughs, the rumble of laughter bubbling up from the belly his head rested against. Then he took in the sight of Nick Stokes' face, smiling gently at his TV screen, one hand holding a water bottle and the other tenderly weaving in and out of Greg's blonde locks. Greg smiled as he realized that Nick must have taken the younger man home with him. The living room was bright with energy-friendly light bulbs as evening slowly approached, along with their work shift. Nick laughed at the TV again, hand over mouth as he tried not to wake the person lying in his lap. He couldn't resist throwing his head back, shaking with the effort of not guffawing loudly.

"Beautiful…" the word slipped from Greg's lips before he realized he was even thinking it. The sound caught Nick's attention and he looked down. When he met Greg's eyes, his own lit up and his grin grew to rival the light bulb above him.

"You're awake!" he exclaimed, genuinely pleased. Neither man made a move to remove Greg from Nick's lap, in fact, Nick continued to play with his hair as if not realizing he was doing it. Greg nodded a bit, smiling shyly, before closing his eyes to the sensation of Nick Stokes' hand. No longer having to worry about waking him up, Nick's laughter now rang loudly about the room as he watched the stand up comedy. Greg let it fill his ears and buoy his heart, each ripple cascading over him and washing Victor from his memories. When the show ended he lamented the loss of that beautiful sound. It took him a while to realize that the TV had been turned off. When he did, he opened his eyes and saw that Nick was staring down at him with a gentle smile. He ruffled his hair.

"We have to be at work in an hour," he announced. "Want to borrow some clothes after you shower?" Greg grinned sheepishly and nodded, getting up with the greatest reluctance he had ever done anything with in his life.


	2. Chapter 2

I don't own the song! Just borrowed it for a chapter or so!

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They rode together to the lab, Greg clad in a pair of jeans and a blue polo shirt that seemed to have been washed in his brunette friend's cologne. It made concentration hard when Greg felt as if he were wrapped in Nick Stokes. But they arrived at the lab and he managed to make it to his office before anyone saw him and noticed he was still limping. Nick had, on the car ride over, invited Greg to stay at his home until he could find himself a new place, empty of memories of Victor. Thinking about it made him jittery, and he spaced out a lot that day. It didn't affect his work, everyone got their evidence back with full, even in depth answers, but they noticed that he squirmed a lot more than usual.

Nick, however, was having a rough day. The crime scene he was sent to process had three dead bodies, and in his mind, every one of them was Greg, beaten and bloody on the floor. He was anxious to get back to the lab to check that the blonde was, indeed, OK. He was so out of rhythm that Catherine noticed and began asking questions, but he brushed her off. When they were driving back to the lab at noon, Catherine couldn't drive fast enough for him, so he began writing his report to pass the time. So jacked up was he that it was finished by the time they got there, meaning they could spare time to eat lunch with the rest of the crew instead of just dropped off their evidence and eating while they worked. Catherine flashed him a grateful, if confused, smile as they logged the evidence and headed towards the break room. Hodges, Sara, and Grissom were all seated at the table, Warrick standing against the wall as he chatted to Mia, sitting off to the side. Nick strolled in and headed for Warrick, Catherine making a beeline for Sara. He was there maybe five minutes when the door opened and Greg limped in, trying not to draw attention to himself. Warrick began eyeing him with the look of someone trying to figure out a puzzle as soon as he entered the room. Nick was giving _him_ a weird look until Mia leaned over and whispered in his ear.

"He's been doing that all day, says there's something off about Greg," she told him conspiratorially. Nick nodded, and then jumped a foot in the air as Warrick sprayed his drink everywhere; evidently he solved his puzzle. The CSIs all exclaimed loudly, but Warrick was pointing at Greg making strangling noises.

"What's wrong Rick?" Nick asked. Warrick looked back at him incredulously.

"Greg's…he…he's wearing your clothes man!" Warrick choked out. Greg froze in spot when everyone turned towards him, noting the relatively calm shirt he was wearing as opposed to the crazy ones he usually had on, and the too-big jeans. Nick went straight to the defensive, trying to protect him.

"How do you know those are my clothes?" he demanded.

"I bought them for you!" came the answer from the African-American. Nick stopped moving, remembering that they had indeed been his birthday present last year.

"Oh…well that is damning evidence…" All eyes were on the clothes-sharing pair until Catherine burst out laughing, then everyone was staring at her, waiting for her to regain her composure.

"That's why you were so anxious to get back!" she crowed. "I knew you were gay Nicky, but Greg?! I had no idea!" And with that she went off in to peals of laughter again, holding on to her sides. Eyes widened all around as the two accused stammered and searched for the right words to make up an excuse with.

"That's not what happened at all!" Nick protested.

"I didn't know you were gay, Nick." Greg mentioned quietly. Unashamed, Nick just shrugged and looked him in the eye, speaking without thinking.

"Well I didn't know _you_ were gay until last night," he countered. Catcalls and whistles sounded throughout the break room and Nick slapped his hands over his eyes in embarrassment. "That came out wrong!" he shouted over their noise. He uncovered his eyes but when he looked to his fellow accused he found him shaking in the same frightened manner than he had the night before, obviously scared by the memories. Nick stepped over to him quickly, worried. Another round of catcalls sounded, but when they saw what Nick saw there was a stunned silence.

"Greg?" Nick called his name, but Greg's hand shook so bad he dropped his coffee mug and it shattered, making the girls cry out in surprise. Greg took a quick, guilty step back, closing his eyes and breathing fast. Nick stepped right in to glass, grabbing his arms and steadying him, forgetting all about the others.

"Greg, it's ok now," he tried again. Greg looked at him and nodded, his eyes a bit unsure. He covered his face with his hands, sinking in to a handy chair that just happened to be right behind him. He looked in to the curious, worried faces of his coworkers and took a deep, steadying breath. With Nick's hand on his shoulder, he found the strength to tell them the truth of what happened, down to the details that flooded Nick with fury. But the bastard was dead; he couldn't hurt Greg any longer. The night shift listened in silence, and that silence reigned when the story came to a conclusion. Greg looked at his still shaking hands, unable to look his friends in the eye, fearing what he might find there. He was surprised when they surged forward en masse and caught him in the middle of a tight group hug, forgetting about the glass on the floor. As he was caught in the tangle of arms and faces, a calloused hand wound it's fingers in with his and squeezed reassuringly, but when the hug separated, the hand let go and floated away. Greg, however, knew just what Nick had done, and smiled at him in thanks. Nick gave him a nod. Sara, back in her seat at the table, looked at the brunette man with an indistinguishable emotion on her face.

"So you…you killed for him," she stated finally. There was a collective intake of breath as they all realized how true this was. Nick stared at her as the truth sank in to him finally. He had been so worried, so wrapped up in Greg that he hadn't even stopped to think about it. He had killed a man. He had killed a man to protect Greg. A man without a weapon. Greg's eyes were shining up at him and he fell back against the wall and slid down. The tension in the room broke immediately when he hit the ground in the middle of the pile of glass shards and howled, bolting back on to his feet. Laughter rang out instead. They let him stand there, twitching, while they fought over who was responsible for picking glass out of Nick's pants until, with uncharacteristic boldness, Greg pulled out a pair of tweezers, bent Nick over the table, and went to work without a word. The team didn't even bother muffling their laughter.

"This is _most_ humiliating," Nick pouted. He felt Greg pat him on the head, then go back to pulled the glass out. When he was done, he leaned over the reluctant patient's shoulder and grinned.

"You want me to sterilize it?" he asked mischievously, causing more catcalls and hoots of laughter. Nick stood straight and glared at them all.

"I can do it myself!" he declared, grabbing the bottle of peroxide dangling from Greg's slender hand. The blonde just grinned up at him, which for some reason made Nick stop breathing. He stammered some more, but settled for rolling his eyes and crossing his arms. Grissom looked at his watch and shook his head, announcing that they all had to get back to work. Greg received many pats on the back and hand shakes as they all told him they were glad he was ok now, and then he limped back to his lab. He worked on identifying an unknown blue substance found at Sara's crime scene for a few minutes before he heard someone behind him.

"Is that why you put in so many extra hours?" It was Nick. Greg turned on his stool and nodded solemnly. Greg amused himself in the off hours by picking up coffee cups from the break room and candy wrappers from the locker room floor and trying to determine who had handled them, what time they had drank or eaten what was inside. He created whole case scenarios and pretend murder scenes in the lab, staying late to 'solve' them so he didn't have to go home to Victor. How he remained so energized with so little sleep was beyond even him. Nick nodded too and came further in to the room, shoving his hands shyly in his pockets.

"So now that you don't have to, what are you going to do?" he asked. Greg considered this. It meant many more free hours to do what he wished. What he wished was for Nick's hand to wind in to his hair once more. Instead of saying that, he shrugged.

"I don't know," he answered. Nick bobbed his head, more to himself it seemed.

"Well I was wondering if…ah..." He lost his nerve right in the middle of the sentence, making Greg cock his head to the side.

"If?" he prompted. Nick chuckled nervously and removed one hand from his pocket to run in through his brown hair.

"If you wanted to get some breakfast together after shift?" came the hurried answer. Greg let him suffer for only so long as it took his smile to light up the whole room, calming Nick significantly.

"How about we just go back to your place and I'll make you some pancakes?" he countered. Nick's smile was even bigger than his as he agreed, then left for his next assignment. Greg turned back to his microscope and immediately knew what the substance was. A special type of blue rubber used to make a 'bridge' when doing dental work. He scribbled a few notes, and then typed some things in to the system, already knowing he was right but knowing that Sara would want paper results. Soon after, Grissom's head came up from where he was sitting at his own desk, and he smiled at the sound of the loud rock and roll that boomed throughout the lab. As each person came in from their shift in the morning hours, they each stopped with a smile to watch the little lab rat Greg Sanders dance around with his air guitar and sun glasses, banging his head around to the beat as he processed evidence with quick, skilled hands. Nick was the last to come in. He stopped walking when Greg burst out of his own door, broom/guitar in hand, skidding on the floor on his knees and punching the air like he'd just finished a stage performance. The next song started with a guitar solo and, much to the amusement of Nick – and Catherine and Warrick who were coming from the opposite direction – he lay on his back and strummed his imaginary guitar while arching off the ground, his face scrunched in to 'rock and roll pose'.

"Rock on baby," Catherine called, doing her own little fancy jig. Greg grinned at them, still not spotting Nick. He scrambled to his feet and continued with his guitaring. Warrick pulled two pens from his pocket and made at if whacking away at a drum set very seriously. Sara stumbled out to see what was going on and had soon joined in dancing about. Nick watched in fascination until the song ended and came on to a song he knew very well. So, throwing inhibitions aside, Nick skidded over with a water bottle microphone and took up the vocals, gaining smiles all around when he winked at Greg while singing the first line.

_Hey, uh huh huh  
Hey, uh huh huh_

_What I like about you, you hold me tight  
Tell me I'm the only one, wanna come over tonight, yeah_

_You're whispering in my ear  
Tell me all the things that I wanna to hear, 'cause that's true  
That's what I like about you_

_What I like about you, you really know how to dance  
When you go up, down, jump around, think about true romance, yeah_

_You're whispering in my ear  
Tell me all the things that I wanna to hear, 'cause that's true  
That's what I like about you  
That's what I like about you  
That's what I like about you_

_Wahh!_

_Hey!_

_What I like about you, you keep me warm at night  
Never wanna' let you go, know you make me feel alright, yeah_

_You're whispering in my ear  
Tell me all the things that I wanna to hear, 'cause that's true  
That's what I like about you  
That's what I like about you  
That's what I like about you  
That's what I like about you (whispered)  
That's what I like about you (whispered)  
That's what I like about you (whispered)  
That's what I like about you (whispered)_

_Hey, uh huh huh, hey hey hey  
Hey, uh huh huh, brrr  
Hey, uh huh huh, hey_

Nick gave all he had, singing his little old heart out even though he was quite aware that he couldn't sing worth a dime. But it was fun. The girl danced their feet off and Warrick banged the life out of his drums. And Greg, oh sweet Greg, was everywhere at once. He bounced up and down, he swung about, and he ended up back to back with Nick, backing up the vocals, all the while playing his broom guitar. As they were singing the last of it, and the song was fading away, they heard a throat being cleared and turned to see Grissom and Hodges there, calmly observing the chaos thumping about in the halls. The team pulled on their best guilty faces as they were scrutinized, that is until Grissom cleared his throat again and spoke.

"I can sing a mean Cher solo," he announced, and everyone burst in to laughter at the thought of it. Instead of reprimanding them, he told them all to go home to bed and perhaps they could sing a bit of Billy Joel tomorrow? When the music was shut off everyone grabbed their stuff, some heading for the parking lot, some for the locker room. Greg found Nick waiting for him by the Denali that Nick drove. He hopped in without a word and the sped off the Nick's house. Pancakes ahoy, Greg thought as they pulled in the driveway.


	3. Chapter 3

Nick stepped out of the shower to the most delicious smell that had ever wafted around his house. He quickly threw on the closest clean clothes and hurried down the hallway to find Greg dancing, of course. He expertly flipped the finished pancakes over his shoulder without looking, each landing on the large platter set on the table against the opposite wall. Nick watched him, fascinated. Greg hummed along to a tune drifting from the radio next to the stove as he worked. Nick had forgotten he even owned that, it had sat atop the refrigerator so long. But there it was, exuding a beat that made Greg sway his hips in a manner that made the other's throat go dry. The blonde sang in to his spatula as he carried a bowl of strawberries to the table, placing it beside a pitcher of orange juice. Nick had forgotten he owned a pitcher too.

"That smells admirably edible," he said in a teasing tone as he strode farther in to the kitchen and plopped in to a chair. Greg grinned, flipped a couple pancakes on to his plate, threw on a couple strawberries, and sprayed a bit of whipped cream on top. His finishing touch was to set a strawberry on to the very peak of the swirl of whipped cream, and then with a cheeky grin he popped one in to Nick's open mouth. The brunette chewed it and laughed.

"I didn't even know I _had_ strawberries," he confessed. Greg continued to dance about, cleaning up the mess that cooking had created on the countertop. He grinned over his shoulder at his friend.

"You didn't!" he clarified cheerfully. Nick looked down at his plate.

"Then where did these come from?" he asked suspiciously. "What, did you pull them out of your ass?" Greg laughed a beautiful joyous, carefree laugh and Nick thought that it was better music than any station on the radio could ever play.

"I went to the store while you were in the shower," Greg admitted, sitting down finally to eat some of his own delicious looking food. Nick gaped a little until the blonde shook his head and popped another strawberry in to his mouth. He dropped it and took a bite out of the pancake. Immediately he groaned in a way that was almost sexual. His eyes being closed, he didn't see Greg go still and stare at him, entranced.

"Oh my _god_ Greg!" Nick exclaimed, still only thinking of the delicious pancake in his mouth. It was the best one he'd ever tasted, and while he kept he eyes closed still to savor the flavor, he couldn't see Greg's violent shiver. When Nick finally did open his eyes, Greg's were glazed and he was still staring. Nick tilted his head.

"What?" he asked. This shook the Californian out of his trance, and he just shrugged and went back to his own food. Neither said another word until all the scrumptious pancakes were devoured, unless you count Nick's little yummy noises as words. They were driving Greg absolutely wild, making him squirm in his chair. Nick didn't even notice, or give any thought to the noises he was emitting. He chalked Greg's squirming up to his overhaul of energy. He just couldn't sit still. When the food was gone Greg leapt up to clean the dishes as if he had…sat in glass. Nick watched him, protesting that he could clean it up himself later, but Greg would have none of it. He muttered something about earning his keep while he stayed here. So Nick grabbed a towel and dried the dishes that Greg was washing. It didn't escape either of them how easily they fell in to a comfortable domestic rhythm, but neither mentioned anything, not wanting to scare the other. When that was done they watched the television for a bit until it was time for bed. Greg crawled in between the yellow sheets of the guest bedroom and loved that they too smelled like they had been washed in Nick's cologne. It was spicy and heady, and it lulled Greg to sleep in what seemed like only minutes. Nick also fell asleep in the next room fairly quickly, but it was more due to exhaustion. He hadn't slept throughout the day after rescuing Greg from Victor; he had spent the day with Greg on the couch, watching over him in worry. But now the younger man was safe, and Nick allowed himself to be claimed by dreams in moments.

The next two months passed in a kind of domestic bliss for the shacked up pair. They went to work together, they ate together, they watched TV together. Greg did most of the cooking, seeing as Nick was fairly inept in the kitchen, but occasionally Greg would wake to the smell of waffles from a plug-in waffle iron or scrambled eggs and toast. Both worked smoother than ever, their content with having each other close clearing their minds to the problems handed to them every day. In his uber abundance of spare time, Greg even dug up a few cold cases, reexamined the evidence, and solved a couple. Efficiency was so high in the lab that even Ecklie was forced to comment in a positive manner. The reason for the good moods of the pair was not lost on the team, but they kept their mouths shut, not wanting to ruin things before they started.

'Things', however, began as soon as Nick came home one morning. Greg had caught a taxi home an hour ago because Nick had to stay later and write reports. When Nick strolled up to his house, he could hear Greg's music playing even through the closed windows. Shaking his head and smiling, Nick opened the door, and then dropped his keys in surprise. Greg had his shades on, but his eyes were closed as he frolicked about the living room. The only clothes he wore were a white button up shirt, a pair of black silk boxers, and white socks. He was doing his air guitar bit again, but he had his head thrown back and his back arched, standing on his toes while he pretended to hit a high note. When the solo ended and fell back in to a steady rhythm Greg abandoned the guitar and swayed his body like he was in a club. He gyrated his hips and threw his head back again, sweat drenched hair flying. His arms lifted above his head and the shirttail still just brushed the top of the boxers, making Nick moan with want. The sound was lost to the loud music. Suddenly the singer let out a loud and passionate "_waow_" and Greg thrust his hips and head forward all together, imitating the noise. Nick's mouth fell open and he moaned harder. Greg was taking off his glasses and laughing when he finally saw Nick by the door, keys and processing kit abandoned on the floor, and eyes glazed over. Both men stared at each other, each breathless. Greg gulped a bit, reaching behind him to turn off the stereo system.

"Sorry," he murmured. Nick tried to swallow but his throat was drier than the dessert outside the city limits.

"Oh god I'm not," Nick muttered under his breath, not meaning for Greg to hear. Greg, however, perked up when those words reached his ears. He stood a little straighter and flicked his hair out of his face. This time he caught the groan that whispered out from between Nick's lips. Nick was captivated by the droplets of water beading on Greg's neck and dripping off his hair to run down under the linen shirt he wore. Greg stood still under his hungry gaze and finally got it. He finally understood why they fit together so effortlessly. He narrowed his eyes, now filled with a hunger of their own, and stalked towards Nick, who did swallow hard this time.

"I-Is that my shirt?" Nick asked breathlessly. Greg smirked a little.

"It smelled good," he replied, then he reached Nick and they were standing so close the wind couldn't have slipped between their bodies. They were still and silent, although both were breathing rather loudly. Greg tilted his head and, keeping his eyes locking on Nick's, inched forward. Nick's eyes widened impossibly, but he gave no protest. So slowly it was like he was teasing the older man, Greg moved towards him until they were but a breath apart. Then he lost control. He surged forward, clashing their lips together, and Nick's moan was monumental. Right away it was a mess of lips and hands and sounds of pleasure. When Nick's hands wound their way around a fistful of Greg hair the blonde growled and pushed Nick down the hallway, ravaging his neck as they went. Nick gasped when they fell on to the guest bed, moving against each other desperately. Despite everything he knew of Greg, Nick was still surprised when he took control. Nick's blue shirt was unbuttoned and his eyes rolled back as a hot mouth bestowed kisses on his chill skin and warm hands roamed his chest with abandon. He let out a delicious gasp as Greg bit down lightly on one of his nipples. He was so distracted that he didn't notice his pants being undone until Greg was tugging at them urgently, and he lifted his hips so that the garment could be peeled off and tossed aside. Greg was everywhere at once with his butterfly kisses and nimble fingers and delicate nibbles. Nick's mind fogged over until all that existed was the young man above him who wore too many clothes for his taste. He raised trembling hands to the buttons of his own shirt, which he decided looked better on Greg anyway, and fumbled with each separate button. It was like they were taunting him, keeping him from what he wanted, what he needed. He finally managed to push it off of the blonde's shoulders, leaving him in just a pair of silk boxers. When had he toed his socks off? And then Nick was in a similar state, happily unaware of when his socks and shoes had taken leave off his feet.

He pulled Greg flush against him, reveling in the skin-to-skin contact, and decided that bliss was when he felt the other man's nipples grate against his own and bead with excitement. He ran his hands down Greg's back, tracing the scars from when the lab had exploded, and thinking he'd never felt anything more alluring. When Greg could no longer hold himself in, the moan he let out was long and loud and sent fireworks through Nick's body, making him shiver. Greg slid off of him just long enough to pull both of their underwear off, and then he was straddling him again. Nick felt surrounded by Greg and he loved it. Their erections rubbed together and they both arched in to the touch. Nick felt himself whimper with want until Greg's lips were on his own again, stealing the sound from his mouth and stealing the breath from his very soul. They moved against each other until Nick gathered all his courage and rolled them both over so he was hovering over his blonde roommate. He checked for approval and saw amusement battling with hunger for dominance in Greg's eyes. He was in the driver's seat now, but he could think of nothing but Greg's lips, so he crashed down in to them, taking all he was given with shameless greed. That it until a hand slithered down between them and grasped Nick's throbbing erection, and he gasping headily in to Greg's mouth, which was smirking. Nick's head fell forward until his forehead rested on Greg's and he forgot to tell his heart to keep beating, the sensations gripping him were so good.

"Oh god Greg," he whispered and he felt his chuckle rumble in both their chests. Then before he knew what happened, Greg was spreading his legs and pulling Nick closer, every fiber of his body screaming out his want for the older man. Nick did it without thinking. Greg placed Nick at his own entrance and Nick knew the next step, so he took it. He slid in to Greg in one swift stroke and it was all he could do not to yell out in triumph and bliss. As it was, the blonde was the one who cried out his pleasure. He suddenly found himself with almost two hundreds pounds of Texan heat surrounding him and filling him and he didn't even know his own name anymore. He pleaded with Nick to move again and the older man was only too happy to oblige. He tried to go slow and enjoy the moment, but animalistic passion only knows one speed: top speed. Their cries mingled as Nick pumped himself in to Greg faster and faster, growing louder and more intense. Nick felt the heat pooling in his belly faster than it even had before. He barely had time to register what was happening when white light exploded behind his eyes and he came with a roar, dragging Greg right along with him. They rocked together, wildly out of rhythm, until their storms had passed and Nick was holding himself above Greg on shaky arms, afraid to collapse on top of him. Greg smiled tiredly and pulled him down in to his strong arms.

The room, now bright with the daylight that was coming in the window, was loud with their ragged breathing but neither spoke for some time. Nick found his head nestled under Greg's chin and a hand was drawing patterns on his naked side. He tried to speak through his panting but managed nothing more than a satisfied 'hmmmm' noise. The other man seemed to understand just what he wanted to say though, for he held on tighter. They lay like that until they both regained their breath and the chill air began freezing the sweat coating their bodies. Greg sat up to pull at the blankets they had somehow tossed to the floor and, when he lay back down, having covered them, Nick looked over at him with a suddenly shy smile.

"What brought that on?" he asked hesitantly. Greg considered him calmly.

"Well I didn't know if you were a virgin, so…" he replied with a shrug. Nick blinked in confusion before he realized what Greg thought he was referring to. He laughed out loud and shook his head.

"No! I mean…why'd you kiss me?" he clarified. It was the other's turn to laugh with surprised joy, as if the answer should have been right there for Nick to see, and yet he didn't see it.

"Ah Nicky," Greg sighed. "I've watched you since the day I was introduced to you. But you came off as a womanizer, so I figured you couldn't be gay. I pined and moped for a bit until I just settled in to accepting that you weren't interested. You kind of became a tasty treat that I could look at every day, but couldn't touch, like a stripper." He shrugged again, only the slightest bit embarrassed. Nick stared at him, raising himself on to his elbow to look down on his friend disbelievingly.

"And all that time I was doing the same with you," he admitted, making them both laugh. Then he lay down again and nestled in his now-requited love's solid chest. It wasn't long before they drifted off to sleep together, feeling like they had found all they could ever want. All they had ever wanted.


End file.
